


all of this then back again

by firstaudrina



Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-28
Updated: 2016-03-28
Packaged: 2018-05-29 19:11:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,282
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6389644
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/firstaudrina/pseuds/firstaudrina
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Magnus is joking when he says, "You," but Alec says, "Okay."</p>
            </blockquote>





	all of this then back again

**Author's Note:**

> Set during 1x11. I feel like the show itself gave me a porn prompt I simply couldn't refuse.

Magnus is joking, of course.

All he wants is to bring that lovely flush to Alec's neck, to see him suppress a smile and shake his head ever so slightly. Alec's expressions are so minute that each one feels hard-won and Magnus can't stop trying to win them, even now that he's heartbroken and angry and more than a little bitter. 

Magnus is joking when he says, "You," but Alec says, "Okay."

Magnus looks at him. Alec looks back for a full three seconds, hazel eyes alight in the glow of the lamps, and then he looks away, clears his throat.

Now, to play the game or concede right away?

Magnus rises from his seat in one slow, smooth motion, setting his drink on the side table as he goes. "That's a very…altruistic thing for you to do for your sister, Alec."

Alec sort of shrugs his shoulders, a jerky and self-contained gesture, and holds his hands out at his sides ever so slightly. Magnus steps closer, the length of the floor closing between them. Alec is looking at him indirectly, lashes veiling his gaze. Magnus gets close enough that a lifted hand could touch. Alec swallows visibly. 

"Do you really think," Magnus says, looking up at him, and he loves that Alec is so tall, taking up so much space when he tries to take up so little, "that I deal in human trafficking, Alexander?" He smiles slightly, sarcastic but not entirely without softness, and turns away. "It was just a joke. I'm sure the Institute can add this to my ever-growing tab."

"No, I –" Alec's voice comes out a little strangled, like he didn't mean to say anything, but he clears his throat and speaks again. "No, it's – It can be a…deal."

Magnus turns halfway, surveying Alec. "What about –"

"It's fine," Alec interrupts. There is a hard determination in his voice then. "What do you want me to do?"

Gently, Magnus says, "Alec."

Tension thrums through Alec, his limbs held rigidly tight: a body like a clenched fist. But his gaze is direct. 

Magnus faces him fully again. "I'll advocate for Isabelle either way. Honestly – I'd do it for nothing." Alec only shifts a little where he's standing, a hint of something that's almost restless in him, or impatient, and Magnus reassesses once again. Anticipation flares. "Are you sure?"

"Yes," Alec says, and again, "What should I do?"

"Nothing," Magnus murmurs. Two steps bring him back into the circle of Alec's personal space. "You don't have to do anything."

Alec reacts to the lightest of touches on his chest, thawing, dropping back against the brick column that stands just behind him. It's as though just that small thing – Magnus' fingers brushing against the front of his shirt – was enough, or too much, and he gave up, gave in. He's watching Magnus like a hawk, trying to prepare himself for every eventuality in a situation where he doesn't really have any idea how it will go. His throat works in a swallow, the only hint of nervousness in his otherwise unreadable body. 

Magnus' gaze trails all the way down, from the scar dividing Alec's left eyebrow to his very long legs. Alec is a tuning fork, immovable until a touch makes him sing.

"You don't have to do anything," Magnus says again, and moves in closer. His hands lift to the button at the top of Alec's shirt and Alec sucks his lower lip into his mouth, breath catching. If Magnus wasn't already a goner, that certainly would do it. 

He proceeds slowly, as much out of a desire to keep from startling Alec as from a need to savor this, every bit of it. He starts with the buttons; there are five, small black buttons that reveal, one by one, the stretch of skin from Alec's collarbones to his heart. There are no runes there, just skin that Magnus touches with the very tips of his fingers. Then he leans in and puts his mouth there, warmth of Alec's skin under his lips and Alec's heartbeat rabbiting so fast. You'd never be able to tell from the outside. Magnus suspects there's a lot of that with Alec. Still waters and all that.

"Tell me when to stop," Magnus says.

Alec's lips press together tight but Magnus lets the silence go until Alec says, "I'm not telling you."

Magnus smiles ever so slightly, can't help it, before he kisses Alec's neck, tilting up a little so he can reach. He drags a finger gently down the front of Alec's cotton t-shirt and the fabric splits under his touch as easily as if it were tissue paper. "I'll fix it," he promises, lips now moving lower, "after."

His hands spread over Alec's body, all muscle and heat, the feel of his bare skin different than the runes, which are a little raised, a little rough. Magnus likes codifying the small, specific details of Alec's sturdy, solid body – so strong, shielding him from so much. Magnus' mouth follows a direct line down until he's folding to his knees (remembering quickly to summon a pillow, of course). He kisses Alec's belt buckle. 

Alec makes a suppressed sound, deep and helpless. Magnus can sympathize.

He gets the belt open next, the button of Alec's jeans; then he lets his hand coast, palm sliding slowly over the dark denim, feeling Alec underneath. Alec's hands clench into fists at his side and he releases one long breath, like he's counting to keep his cool: _one two three four five_. Magnus isn't very interested in Alec keeping his cool. 

"You know what might be just _lovely_ , Alexander?" he says, looking up and locking on to Alec's eyes. He doesn't answer his own question with words, instead reaching for Alec's wrists so he can put Alec's hands on him – one big hand cradling his skull, the other pressed against his cheek. Alec is a little awkward, a little unused to it, but he wets his lips again and adapts, touch turning soft and tender. Magnus melts, goes stupid, and the sparks that shiver over his skin are only half magic. 

"You know," Magnus begins conversationally, pausing only to tug down Alec's zipper with his teeth, "this wasn't quite how I imagined our first time. Then again, these things are difficult to predict."

He doesn't expect a response, but Alec says, "Oh?" with just enough rough interest that it piques Magnus' attention.

"Mm," he murmurs, leaning his head back into Alec's hand like a cat. "I would have gone all out. Candles. Red wine." He nuzzles at Alec a little through the fabric of his briefs then presses a wet, open-mouthed kiss to the spot, tongue just flicking out to make his intentions more than abundantly clear. "Mood music. Lots of gazing into one another's eyes. Maybe I would've even got the fire going."

Alec's mouth gives that little twitch it does that indicates a smile. "Sounds –"

"Terribly romantic?"

"Like a fire hazard," Alec suggests instead and Magnus laughs with surprised delight.

"You're something else, Alexander," he says, and means it.

The easy levity zips away as Magnus starts to ease down the waistband of Alec's briefs. His mouth traces a path from hipbone to hipbone as he gets Alec's clothes tangled around his thighs. The only thing better than having Alec naked is having him nearly so, his messy dishabille making him more Magnus' somehow, as though it's all just evidence of the effect he has on Alec. A tangible record of taking one boy apart.

Alec's breathing is quick now, his body humming with anticipation and a kind of unexpected carelessness. He tugs a little on Magnus' hair and his hips shift in Magnus' grip, so he does the only honorable thing and finally takes Alec into his mouth. 

He digs his fingers into the flesh of Alec's ass to encourage the arch of his body. He can feel the faintest of tremors go through Alec and though he doesn't look up, he can imagine Alec's eyes closed tight, overwhelmed once again, so easily. Alec's body is beautiful, that goes without saying, but what Magnus might like even better is the iron control with which Alec handles it – and how it's all melting away, right here, right now, for Magnus.

He wants Alec to pull his hair, wants Alec to move his hips, wants to feel the ache of Alec in his throat long after this has ended. He chances a glance upwards and sees that Alec's head is tipped back but his eyes are open, though perhaps not quite taking in the surroundings; Alec's lips are flushed because he keeps pressing them together and then releasing them on a gasp, a compulsive little cycle that just makes him look as though he has been kissed senseless. Which is really something Magnus ought to do one of these days.

Magnus has had many (many, _many_ ) yeas of practice, though of course every encounter is different in its own important ways, and it all comes in handy as he chases one very simple goal: to get Alec to moan. Alec is all sighs and sharp inhales and shallow breathing but Magnus wants more than that, he wants noise. He has always been a creature that craves a little flash. He doesn't know exactly what Alec likes but it's likely that Alec doesn't either, and figuring it out together in the moment adds an impossible sweetness to the entire situation, in Magnus' mind.

He doesn't want to overwhelm Alec, and he also has no qualms about being an abominable tease, so Magnus takes it slow. He relishes it: the glacial slide of Alec into and out of his mouth, dragging over his tongue, his bottom lip. He wants to experience all of it, all of Alec, as fully as he possibly can. But he'd be lying if he didn't admit he also has ulterior motives.

Magnus wants to see if Alec will endure this well-intentioned torture, if he'll just let Magnus do whatever he wants to him – or if base desires will get the best of Alec. Magnus would like to see Alec take control instead of just exercising it, but that might be a tall order for a single evening. Magnus has an eternity of evenings and he wouldn't mind spending them on pushing Alec to the brink.

He can feel Alec's pulse tapping away fast against his tongue, but on the outside Alec remains tightlipped, keeping everything in. Magnus clearly isn't trying hard enough.

He doesn't waste any more time on teasing; he devours Alec like he's wanted to do since the very first moment he saw him. He hauls Alec forward by the hips, fingers digging in deep enough to leave splotchy little fingerprints on Alec's skin – a mark more temporary than a rune but holding no less meaning, in Magus' opinion. Alec starts a little, pulling Magnus' hair too hard, wonderfully, and catches himself with the other hand on Magnus' shoulder. Alec's grip bites into the thin satin and after a moment he seems to enjoy it, palm sliding down over Magnus' back, feeling the shift of skin and muscle. It's the most active choice he's made yet, and he did so nearly by accident.

Magnus takes Alec fast and messy. He moans, unintentional and muffled, and maybe that's why he doesn't realize at first that Alec is finally making noise – a low, pleasurable hum that begins to vibrate under Magnus' skin the more he hears it. Magnus thinks it might be his favorite sound in the world, better than anything else he's ever heard.

If this is so good – just this, just tormenting Alec with his mouth – then Magnus can only imagine the rest. Alec underneath him. He'd like to see that.

Alec comes with virginal abruptness but Magnus doesn't mind, too busy enjoying the aftermath, the way Alec slumps back against the brick like he's just run a marathon. Sweat sheens ever so slightly on his skin and his hair sticks to his forehead a little, face relaxed in a way Magnus has never seen it before. He did that.

On his way back up, he puts Alec to rights. A little magic to clean up the mess. He tucks Alec away, zips him up, rebuckles. He tugs the two halves of Alec's shirt back together and magic knits them up like they were never torn. Alec seems to weave a little, drifting closer and then shying away. After everything, still afraid. 

"What do you want me to do?" Magnus asks, hoping that the answer will be something tender or filthy, that Alec might surprise him and says something delightfully wicked in his wry voice. 

"I don't know," Alec says. It's probably the most honest thing he could say. 

"Well, dearheart, it seems to me," Magnus starts, doing his best to inject his voice with its usual verve, "that until you figure it out, I –"

Alec kisses him. Too busy trying to act as though everything is just peachy, Magnus misses the signs entirely, so he has no time to prepare himself before Alec's mouth is on his, Alec's hands once again cradling his face. Magnus is so caught off guard that the fireplace sparks to roaring, three books fly off an end table, and all the lights in the lair flicker on and off. It surprises Alec into pulling away, but once he realizes it's just Magnus' magic gone haywire, he laughs very softly.

Magnus slides one hand around Alec's waist and uses the other to tug him back in by the lapels of his jacket. "I liked that answer better."


End file.
